


When We Uncover

by FallingLikeThis, Rearviewdreamer



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bookstore, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Aromantic Zayn, Boys Kissing, Falling In Love, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Liam Payne & Harry Styles Friendship, Love Tattoos, M/M, Niall Horan & Harry Styles Friendship, OT5 Friendship, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Zayn Malik & Louis Tomlinson Friendship, eventually, idek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-27
Updated: 2016-09-27
Packaged: 2018-07-18 11:25:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7313308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallingLikeThis/pseuds/FallingLikeThis, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rearviewdreamer/pseuds/Rearviewdreamer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In world where everyone is born with a unique tattoo on their ankle, people come to wear the marks of everyone they fall in love with on their skin. Louis only has a few marks and he regrets nearly every one of them. So when he meets Harry, a boy with too many tattoos, he's hesitant to let him get too close.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When We Uncover

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [1D_Hiatus_Prompt_Meme](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/1D_Hiatus_Prompt_Meme) collection. 



> **Prompt:** au where everyone is born with a very unique tattoo on their ankle, nobody else in the world has that tattoo.  
>  every time you fall in love with someone, their tattoo appears somewhere else on your body. (not necessarily soulmates, just who you fall in love with.)  
> imagine people who fall in love easily having their bodies completely covered in tattoos.  
> aromantics who only have their own ankle tattoo on their body.  
> people who have love affairs having to cover up the other secret tattoo from their spouse/partner.  
> a new tattoo appearing on a celebrity’s body in new photos and a very lucky fan (who had recently met the celebrity) realizing that it’s their tattoo.  
> elderly ladies sitting around tables in nursing homes telling the story behind each of their tattoos.  
> kindergartners who giggle as they look at their own ankle tattoos together and dream about the future tattoos they’ll have when they’re all grown up.  
> people trying their best to deface tattoos of ex-lovers who broke their hearts, but they can never go away.
> 
>  
> 
> A/N: Special thank you to the friends who helped make this fic what it is. You know who you are. ;p

 

 

Louis remembers a time when he was young and idealistic, looking down at the tattoo on his ankle that he was born with and longing for the day he’d see it show up on someone else’s skin. He imagines that most people have a moment like that, where they believe their future is full of such bright lights and the kind of romantic love that only exists in the pages of fairytales. He can’t believe he was ever that naïve.

“How’s that?” Zayn asks, sitting up so that Louis can see all the tattoos on his arm, the marks of each mistake of a partner he’d let himself fall in love with, suddenly transformed into works of art under the indelible ink of Zayn’s markers.

“They’re beautiful, Z,” Louis remarks, eyes trailing over each image trying to find some trace of their original form and happily spotting none. “Just like always.”

Louis’ come to hate his stupid tattoos, each failed relationship roping off another broken section of Louis’ heart until he has none left to give to anyone reaching for a piece of it. Should anyone else seek to hold Louis’ heart, all they’ll find are cruel, jagged shards that will slice their hands to ribbons. At least, that’s how it feels right now but what can you expect from someone who’s spent the last year falling in love with an arsehole who didn’t have the decency to love him back? Louis had waited, hoping, but there has to come a time when you admit to yourself that it’s just not going to happen. Apparently, for Louis, the time had come when his boyfriend had come home with a new tattoo that looked nothing like Louis’. He hadn’t even really tried to hide it.

Louis takes a sip of the drink Zayn had given him when he’d shown up at the other boy’s door looking quite pathetic, he’s sure. Without a word, Zayn had gotten Louis a drink and steered him to the sofa to wait while Zayn went to get his pens. It’s a tradition at this point. Louis will spend a year or so in a doomed relationship and drag himself to Zayn’s when it all falls apart so that the artist can erase every trace of Louis’ past mistakes with incredible art, leaving him with an arm full of beautiful lies.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Zayn asks after a moment of silence. He keeps his eyes on the television, knowing how defensive Louis can get if he feels cornered.

“He came home with a tattoo that wasn’t mine,” Louis says, voice reflecting no emotion, giving the illusion that he’s unbothered. “Told him to pack up his shit. Don’t really think there’s much more to say about it.”

“Oh, Lou,” Zayn sighs and Louis can hear the unspoken _you have the worst taste in men_ that Zayn would have said aloud a few years ago when Louis would have tried to laugh it off, before he became so jaded.

The funny thing is, Louis actually doesn’t have that many tattoos. He’s got five. Four on his left arm, and one on his right. He actually doesn’t mind the one on his right arm, a relic from secondary school when he’d fallen in love with his first boyfriend. They’d broken up when they’d gone their separate ways for Uni but it was amicable. They’d spent one last summer night wrapped in each other’s arms before Louis had gotten in his car and driven away the next morning. He doesn’t let Zayn change that one but he wonders sometimes if that one good relationship is making all of the bad ones seem worse somehow, coloring them with hopes he isn’t capable of achieving anymore.

“I’m fine,” Louis lies and ignores the stare he can feel burning into the side of his face.

“You’re not fine,” Zayn says, taking a deep breath like he’s gearing himself up to inform Louis of all the ways in which he’s ‘not fine’.

Louis decides now would be a good time to leave.

“Well, thanks for the artwork,” he says ruffling Zayn’s hair as he stands, knowing it will annoy the other boy. He feels a vindictive little thrill when he hears Zayn’s indignant squawk. “I think I’ll be going now.”

“Lou,” Zayn calls as Louis leaves his drink on the coffee table and rushes towards his jacket. “You don’t have to go.”

But Louis is already out the door, making his way out into the cold London rain. Maybe it will wash away some of the misery he’s feeling.

 (It doesn’t.)

 

 *

 

Louis ducks under the awning of a used bookstore after about three blocks walking in the pouring rain. He’s soaked through and cold but a glance at his watch tells him that it’s too soon to go home. There’s no way that Jason will be out of the flat yet and Louis really doesn’t want to see that cheating twat’s face again any time soon. He considers going inside the store to warm up but his mum taught him better than that. He knows he’d leave a mess behind if he went inside so he stays where he is and instead pulls out a cigarette.

Five minutes later and it’s still not lit, his lighter having given out on him. Louis sighs, a deep, bone weary breath, moving out of the way when someone exits the bookstore and pulling the cigarette from his lips. Could this day get any worse?

“Need a light?” A pleasant, deep voice asks from beside him.

Louis turns his head and glances at the man but the glance turns into an appraisal. He’s tall, with green eyes and a kind smile, long hair falling to his shoulders in waves. He looks like he could be anyone’s vision of the perfect prince charming until Louis’ eyes trail over the abundance of tattoos on his arms. _God_ , there must be at least twenty, maybe more. Louis is immediately wary.

“Um, sure,” he says when the other boy’s smile starts to fade.

A lighter appears before him, lit and waiting, and Louis puts his cigarette back between his lips and leans forward, cupping his hands around it as the end of his cigarette burns to life.

Louis takes a deep, calming drag and pulls it from his lips again. “Thanks,” he says, making sure to blow the smoke away from the other boy’s face.

“No problem,” he says with a shrug but his smile doesn’t return and there’s a defeated slump to his shoulders that Louis has a strong suspicion he’s the cause of.

There’s an awkward moment in which they both stand there silently, only the sound of rain pattering roughly against the pavement playing in their ears. Louis uses that moment to study the other boy, he’s wearing a name tag that says _Harry_ on it and Louis suspects that he’s the person who came out of the bookstore a minute ago. Must be on his break, Louis guesses.

“Have you got another one of those?” Harry asks, gesturing at Louis’ cigarette.

“Yeah, sure,” Louis answers reaching for his pack. He doesn’t understand why he feels so guilty for removing the spark from Harry’s eyes. Anyone with that many tattoos has to be a player, right? The kind of guy who falls for someone each week before moving on to the next person. Louis can’t help that he’s put off by Harry’s tattoos. It’s not like he said anything rude about them though.

Before Harry can take the offered pack, a head is sticking out the door of the shop.

“Sorry to cut you short, Harry, but Emilia is asking for you again.” The bloke rolls his eyes at the mention of this Emilia character and Louis gets the feeling that, whoever she is, she makes a habit of asking for Harry.

“Oh, alright,” Harry says, reaching for the door as the other bloke disappears back inside. “Thanks anyway,” he directs at Louis with a little defeated smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Sure,” Louis mutters as he goes, watching through the window as Harry makes his way to the counter where a pretty girl is waiting for him, twirling her hair around a finger as she smiles at him flirtatiously. Harry’s charming grin is back in an instant, warm and inviting, pulling that poor girl to her inevitable doom.

Louis shakes his head at himself as he tears his eyes away and takes another drag of his cigarette, certain now that he has no reason to feel guilty after all.

 

>*<

 

It’s a bit later than usual when Harry is finally able to pull himself away from work. His shift finished nearly half an hour ago, but the people inside the bookshop enjoy him being around so much that they plot to keep him around; his co-workers always starting up new conversations just when he’s about to walk out the door, or regular customers like Emilia who love to chat with him about all things, even if the topic doesn’t strictly pertain to books.

Emilia’s a tricky one for him. She’s beautiful. Like a lure who pulls you in with her innocent smile and soft touches. She’s enough of a flirt to sometimes make Harry feel as though he’s met his match when it comes to falling for people, but then Harry remembers the smooth expanses of skin that are sometimes visible when she wears certain outfits or when she proudly shows off the ink forever branded into her flesh.

She’s got a body littered with tattoos; dozens of them all down her arms and legs and even a couple on her back and shoulders. She has just as many if not more than Harry does, at this point, but he knows for a fact that for every tattoo she’s accumulated over the years that there are probably twice as many men walking the Earth that bare her brand as well. Harry wouldn’t necessarily mind being one of them considering falling in love is a beloved pastime for both of them, but he knows better. He and Emilia sound like a good fit in theory, but something tells him that they wouldn’t quite work out. Too much of a good thing, and all that.

Harry walks along the wet street, grinning kindly at the strangers who pass by when they brush arms or their gazes meet. He’s never understood people who walk with their heads down or buried in the screen of their phones. It’s nearly impossible to meet people that way; to make a connection. Harry has met two of his exes that way. Just walking down the street, their gazes locking for a moment and then that familiar thrill of initial attraction overwhelming him, all before they even said hello.

He lives for that. For the rush of falling for someone, for that person’s tattoo to show up one day, emblazoned on his skin because he’s so in love with who they are.

Harry has a lot of tattoos. People may think he’s a tricky one just like Emilia upon meeting him, but Harry doesn’t fall for sport. It isn’t a game to him like it is for some people, because one of these days, he’s going to fall in love and get it right. He’s going to fall and then that person’s tattoo will show up on Harry’s skin, and instead of their mutual love fading out or ending without notice, that person is going to be the one, and they’ll be together forever.

Finding that one person who is going to love him in return and stick around is what he dreams about. It’s the reason he has so many tattoos to begin with. It’s the reason he won’t give up the search even after some of his relationships having crashed and burned in a terrible blaze. That one person is out there. Harry just has to keep looking.

 

*

 

His best mate grins at him as he opens the door to his flat and steps back to invite Harry inside.

“Hi there, Haz,” he greets him, already making his way back to the couch where his boyfriend is. Niall lifts his head up from the throw pillow to smile at him and wave hello before Liam expertly lines their bodies up again where they were lying down before Harry knocked on the door.

“So, how was work?” Liam asks as he clicks play again on the remote he just wedged out of Niall’s hand.

“It was good,” Harry answers, watching his best friend sigh when Niall’s arm comes down around his shoulders. He holds Liam tight as they settle back in to finish the movie they were watching. They’re so effortless together. They always have been. The both of them completely in sync from the moment they met to the moment their tattoos showed up on each other’s bodies.

“Fall in love with anybody today, Harry?” Niall teases, dragging his eyes away from the screen for a moment to smile at him. Harry rolls his eyes fondly, used to the way his friends constantly pick on him for being such a romantic.

“No, I didn’t fall in love with anybody today, Ni,” Harry grins. Besides Emilia, no one else really stood out today. Well, no one besides that boy who needed a light outside the shop. Harry definitely noticed him.

He was dripping wet with that damp cigarette caught between his lips. Harry had watched him struggle with trying to light it for a long time before offering his lighter instead. The boy was attractive; Harry could tell that even from inside the shop, but it wasn’t until the boy met his gaze that Harry’s interest peaked.

His eyes were like crystals, so clear and beautiful that Harry didn’t hesitate to ask for one of his cigarettes just for an excuse to stand there with him a little longer. That familiar thrill of attraction was definitely there. Harry could feel it just as strongly as he felt the adrenaline coursing through his veins, but the boy’s face didn’t show any signs of him reciprocating it.

He looked sad. Dejected, and his face only continued to spiral down a path of other lowly emotions as his blue eyes raked over Harry and his skin. After that, Harry couldn’t really tell what the boy was thinking. He didn’t get a chance to ask either, because he had to cut his break short.

It was probably nothing, the tiny spark he felt between himself and this boy who clearly didn’t feel anything at all when they met. Harry falls for people all the time. Sometimes without the object of his affection even being aware of it. He’s got a body full of other people’s tattoos and some of those people didn’t know, or knew but had no intention of Harry’s tattoo ever showing up on them.

The boy from today was wearing a jacket when he slipped under the awning to escape the rain, so Harry doesn’t know anything about his past. Harry figures he never will either since he’ll probably never see that boy again. He sighs, wondering if he’s okay wherever he is. If those magnificent eyes of his are still subdued by whatever was hurting him earlier.

 

>*<

 

Louis lays awake when he should be sleeping. It’s well past midnight and he can’t stop staring at his arm, tracing his finger over Zayn’s drawings and the tattoos hidden underneath. His mind keeps flashing back to that boy at the bookshop, Harry, and the veritable catalogue of tattoos that littered his arms. He wonders, is Harry still with any of the keepers of the marks on his skin or did he love them all for a moment only to move on the next? It haunts him, that someone could be so careless with that many hearts. And then he thinks of Jason and the fact that he’ll never bear the shape that’s branded on Louis’ ankle and his harsh feelings soften a little. At least Harry actually managed to love them for a little while, Jason couldn’t manage that for Louis. Still, _that many people_? He wonders how many people carry Harry’s mark. Is it more or less than the number Harry has?

Louis groans and rips his fingers away from his arm, staring at the ceiling instead of his skin. He’s so frustrated with himself. There’s absolutely no reason to be thinking about this. He’s given up on finding love for himself. It’s simply not worth this empty feeling inside when he inevitably gets his heart broken again. He’s done. And he’s done with wondering about the curly haired boy at the bookshop.

He rolls onto his side and closes his eyes tightly.

It takes entirely too long but he eventually manages to fall asleep.

He dreams of green eyes and a kind smile and more tattoos than he’s comfortable with.

 

*

 

Zayn would laugh at him, Louis is absolutely sure. Or, more likely, sigh at him.

He’s pacing outside Harry’s bookshop with half a mind to go inside and confront the boy.  Because _who does he think he is_ playing with people’s hearts? He’s just as bad as Jason, isn’t he? Maybe worse. Jason has seven tattoos… _eight_ , eight tattoos.

And just like that, the reminder of his ex and what he’d done steals the wind from Louis’ sails.

Louis is just angry, and looking for someone to release his fury on. When he gets like this, anyone will do. Even a boy with too many tattoos that Louis knows nothing about. He sighs at _himself_ (Zayn would probably be proud) and sinks down against the wall next to the door, legs spread out in front of him so that anyone passing will have to step over them or go out of their way to walk around. He probably looks like a broken doll, sitting there limply as he berates himself for even coming here. What is he even doing? He doesn’t know anymore.

“Excuse me,” a pretty girl requests, stepping over Louis’ legs to get to the door.

He looks up just in time to recognize her as the one with the crush on Harry. Emilia, he thinks he remembers. She’s wearing a pair of extremely short jean cutoffs that bare her legs to anyone with a mind to look. Louis doesn’t mean to but he can’t help it when his eyes catch on several tattoos. Both legs carry a few and he wonders vaguely if Harry’s mark is already among them. And then he wonders if hers is on Harry somewhere.

He scoffs at himself as he pulls out a cigarette and lights it with the lighter he stole from Zayn this morning when he’d stopped by Louis’ flat to mother hen him after Louis ran out yesterday. He takes a deep breath, blowing out the smoke slowly. None of these things he’s thinking about are any of his business.

Louis pulls his legs back, knees tucked against his chest as he smokes, tilting his head back to rest against the brick wall behind him. He glances down at the tattoo on his ankle, runs his thumb over it and wishes that he didn’t already feel the compulsion to start again, look for someone to offer it to. The pain from Jason is still so fresh but what’s wrong with wanting to be loved? God, Louis wants that so badly. He kind of hates himself for needing it, especially after he’s just sworn off boys. He knows he’ll only get hurt but there’s still that urge to just _try._ And okay, maybe the feeling of having someone to love is nice too. He laughs to himself bitterly, maybe Harry could give him some tips in that department.

 

>*<

 

Harry grins when Emilia strolls in as usual, browsing through the store chatting (flirting) with the other customers before she makes her way up to the counter.

She bats her long eyelashes as she speaks, first asking Harry about his night, and then his day so far at work. Harry listens and responds with the same amount of enthusiasm as usual as the two of them talk, but his ears get hung up on Emilia's recount of her day so far when she mentions that she had to practically step over a boy just to get inside the shop.

"Wait. There's someone outside lying on the ground?"

"Er- No,” Emilia shakes her head to calm his worrying, “He's kind of just sitting there… smoking," she says causing Harry's gaze to instantly fall on the front entrance of the shop.

There was a boy outside yesterday who was smoking or rather _attempting_ to smoke before Harry offered him a light. The sad looking one with the beautiful eyes who Harry was fairly certain he'd never see again. How serendipitous would it be if that very same boy is the one currently sitting just on the other side of the door?

Harry doesn't give anyone in the shop much notice before announcing that he'll be right back. Emilia blinks at him in surprise when he quickly moves from behind the register, but turns her attention to Harry's coworker to chat with him instead during his absence. When Harry reaches the door he sticks his head out of it. He's absolutely shocked when the boy he was hoping for is sitting at his feet, staring up at him with half of a lit cigarette between his fingers.

"It's you," he breathes, capturing the boy’s attention as well as slightly startling him apparently with how sharply he meets his gaze when the door snaps shut behind him. The boy calms once he notices that it’s just Harry and blinks up at him with a raised eyebrow.

"What, were you expecting me?" he asks sarcastically.

_Yes._

"No, not really," Harry says, "Not after I didn't even get your name last time, but Emilia said there was a boy out here so I was really hoping that maybe…" Harry forces himself to shut up when he realizes he's talking _a lot_. Way too much considering he and this boy are still technically strangers.

He looks different in the daylight, Harry notices. He's still beautiful. Something tells Harry that he'd be gorgeous at any time of the day, but the sadness behind his eyes from last night is gone. It's no longer there, but it seems to have been replaced by something harder.

Harry's eyes travel down the boy's arms that are now exposed to him because of the t-shirt he's wearing. He doesn't mean to stare, but he can't help it because he can't make out any of his tattoos. There are only a few that Harry can see the faint outline of, four or five of them in total that are lost behind a collage of drawings done in what looks to be permanent marker. He's seen people who do this. People who dislike the marks on their skin so much that they try to cover them in any way that they can. Harry has seen some pretty good attempts before, even a few people who take blades to their flesh to try and destroy the evidence of past loves. Thankfully this boy hasn't gone to those lengths, but his tattoos are so well hidden that Harry has to squint just to see the small shapes beneath the marker that's already beginning to fade.

The boy notices Harry's gawking and protectively slaps a hand over the arm with the most drawings on it.

"Is there something that you need?" he asks in a tone that really just sounds like 'fuck off'.

He sounds defensive; indignant even, and they hardly even know each other. The boy's sharpness dampens that shimmering spark of attraction that Harry feels when he looks at him, but only for a moment before the fluttering sensation rolls through his stomach again.

"What's your name?" Harry asks, realizing that he'd still very much like to know.

The boy stares at him for a long time and says nothing. His eyes traveling the length of Harry's arms, cataloging every tattoo that he can before staring out at the street.

"Why do you want to know?" he asks after a while.

"Why don't you want to tell me?" Harry asks in the same suspicious tone.

The boy scoffs at that. He's stubborn. Harry could tell that last night. It's even more obvious now as he quickly stubs out his cigarette on the concrete before standing up to face him.

Harry feels his pulse increase from how close they are. Those blue eyes scan over him, sizing him up before he speaks.

"I've met people like you before..."

There’s judgment in his words, but it’s not unkind. It’s not anything really, but Harry can feel himself frowning. What does he mean _'people like him'_? Harry spends a long time wondering what this boy sees when he looks at him, however the boy's judgmental words are instantly forgotten a second later when he quietly reveals that his name is Louis.

"Louis," Harry repeats, trying not to smile from how nicely it fits him. "Well, Louis, it's incredibly nice to meet you," Harry says, offering his hand for him to shake. Louis stares down at it with a fierce determination to not comply and meet him halfway, but the longer Harry holds his hand out towards him, the more visible Louis' grin becomes. Louis bites down on it with a slight roll of his eyes. He's still hasn’t shaken Harry's hand, but he's gotten a real smile out of him which is a million times better in Harry's opinion.

"So, Louis," Harry grins after a while, "What are you doing sitting out here out here all by yourself?"

Louis is silent for a beat before shrugging. "Nothing. I was just out for a walk."

"Oh. And do you walk near here often?"

"...Maybe," Louis says. “Why do you care?"

"I don't. I've just never seen you until last night and now you're here again today, so I was just wondering if you’re here a lot." _Hoping_ , more like, but Harry doesn’t tell him that. Louis' eyes lose some of their fire as he frowns, looking a bit guilty for apparently assuming the worst. Harry doesn't like for him to look that way. It's too similar to the sadness that was in his eyes last night.

"Do you think you'll maybe come walking this way again tomorrow?"

"Er, no, I don't think so." he says, looking back out at the street.

That's unfortunate, but Harry was hoping he'd say something like that. "Well, in that case…could I maybe have your number?” Harry rushes to explain himself when Louis’ eyebrows rise from his forwardness. “I mean, I’m only asking so that I know how to get in contact with you since you don’t know when you’ll be back this way.”

Louis listens to his excuse with humored skepticism. "Now, what would someone like you want with my number? Surely nothing good," he says in answer to his own question.

He's wary. Harry can tell from the little crease that forms between his eyebrows. Harry needs him to know that there's no reason for him to be.

"Maybe I'd like to call you up to be my smoking buddy during my breaks. Or, maybe I want to give you discounts on books?" he grins. Saying that he really just wants to get to know Louis better would most likely send him running in the other direction, so Harry keeps the banter light as he continues to list off half a dozen other reasons for why he may need Louis around, a good choice on his part when he sees Louis' lips quirk up at the corners.

He seems to think about it for a moment, his gaze aimed at the ground as he deliberates. "There's no pressure," Harry assures him just in case he feels cornered. Harry grins when Louis blinks up at him expectantly with those crystal eyes of his.

"…So, are you going to give me your phone, or?" Harry nods as he fumbles to dig it out of his pocket. He puts it in Louis' hand carefully, his stomach doing tiny somersaults as he watches Louis type in his information.

"There you are," Louis says, still grinning as he hands back the phone. It fades when Harry's name is loudly called from inside the shop. “...Sounds like someone really needs you in there.”

"Yeah, unfortunately," Harry sighs. He's been out here for a long time considering he just walked away from the register, relying on nothing but pure instinct and intuition when he had hoped Louis was the one sitting out here.

"I need to get going anyway," Louis says.

"Now that you're all done with your walk and all?" Harry teases.

Harry has no idea what Louis was actually doing here again. He doesn’t think Louis came back by chance, but Harry’s happy to see him regardless, no matter his motive.

Harry turns to go back inside once Louis leaves, having promised to text him as soon as he gets the craving for a cigarette or wants to give Louis a couple hundred vouchers for free books. It makes Louis crack a new smile, stubborn as it is when he rolls his eyes.

"Yeah. Sure," he chuckled before walking out of eyesight, clearly not at all convinced that Harry will actually contact him. Harry cannot wait to prove him wrong.

 

It's later when Harry gets off work and decides to meet Liam and Niall for dinner at the restaurant that the three of them have been going to for years. Liam and Niall had their first date here. Harry has been here with dates on several occasions as well, but he thinks being here with his mates is always the most fun.

"How was your day?" his best friend asks once they're seated, flipping through the menu that they’ve all practically memorized by now.

"It was good," Harry answers, deciding on his usual dish.

Niall smirks across the table at him. "Fall in love with anybody?"

Niall asks him that every time they see each other. It's a running joke that always causes Harry to fondly roll his eyes, however today his cheeks heat up around the dimples that appear when he remembers Louis miraculously showing up at the shop today.

"Oh my God, you did fall in love, didn't you?" Liam gasps. "With who?! Where's the tattoo? Let me see it!" he demands. Harry bites down on his smile so it isn't quite so blinding and apparently, _convincing_.

"I don't have a new tattoo. I haven’t fallen in love," he admits, though the giant ‘ _yet’_ that he holds in keeps the grin alive on his face. All he knows about Louis so far is his name, his phone number, and the brilliant color of his eyes, but Harry is certain that there's more there for him to discover. He can just feel it.

Niall looks only mildly crestfallen by his response. "Well there's always tomorrow," he smirks. He's joking of course. It's not like Harry _actually_ falls in love with a new person every other day, but he wouldn't mind lightning striking when it comes to him and Louis.

 

>*<

 

“Oh my god,” Louis groans into his hands. “ _Why_ did I give him my number, Z?”

Zayn snorts from the kitchen where he’s gone to grab Louis another drink from the fridge. “Maybe because you like him?”

Louis glares up at him as he walks back into the room, drinks in hand, and sits beside him. “I don’t _like_ him. He’s just…  Well, okay, he’s well fit but. _Ugh_ , Zayn, did I just let a player charm me?”

“I can’t answer that, Lou. I don’t know the bloke. And neither do you. Maybe you could give him a chance before deciding who he is based on the number of tattoos on his arms,” Zayn says handing Louis his drink and sinking down beside him on the sofa. “I mean, if we just decided who people are based on the marks on their arms, Lou, what would you think of me?”

Louis flushes at Zayn’s argument even as his eyes trail over Zayn’s bare arms. He’s dated people, sure, but Zayn’s never fallen in love with anyone. It took them both a lot of late nights and internet searches to figure out that there’s a reason for that, that there are other people out there just like Zayn. He was so worried that he was deficient in some way until Louis had come across a website that detailed a whole list of sexualities and identities that neither of them had been aware of before. Zayn is aromantic. He’ll never find the elusive ‘right person’ that his mother is still holding out hope for, he’ll never wear any tattoos on his skin but his own and that doesn’t make him less of a person or invalidate who he is in any way. There are people who think that Zayn is a challenge of some kind, trying to be the first to get their mark on his skin instead of listening when he says he’s not capable of loving someone like that. He can love just fine, it’s just never going to be the sweep-you-off-your-feet-and-marry-you kind and, unfortunately, that’s the only kind that leaves its traces for the world to see at a glance.  Louis’ cheeks burn with shame.

“You’re right,” Louis finally answers. “If I didn’t know you, I would assume you were either a dick that only cared about himself or, I don’t know, someone who’s too sheltered, I guess. And both of those would be wrong.”

“It’s alright, babe,” Zayn grins, throwing an arm over Louis’ shoulders. “It’s what I’m here for, yeah? To show you the error of your ways.”

“Fuck off,” Louis laughs pushing Zayn off of him.

They both freeze when Louis’ phone chirps with a notification.

“Is that him?” Zayn asks as they both stare at the phone on the coffee table where Louis left it when he’d gotten a message from his mum a few hours earlier. “Already?”

It’s only been maybe six hours since Louis typed his number into Harry’s phone. Nobody texts that soon after getting a number from a relative stranger. Well, unless they’re drunk. Surely, Harry’s not…

Louis picks up his phone and sees that it’s a message from an unknown number. Suddenly, there’s a tornado of apprehension swirling dangerously in Louis’ stomach. He has no idea what to expect if it is Harry.

“Well?” Zayn pushes, leaning over Louis’ shoulder so that he can see the screen, too. “Open it already. The suspense is killing me.”

“Shut up,” Louis nudges him with his shoulder and opens the message.

_I know I’m supposed to wait like three days after getting your number to call or text but I think that’s a stupid rule. Also, I couldn’t wait. Hiii._

“Fuck, that’s cute,” Zayn murmurs. “I see what you mean. He’s obviously evil and you should stay far, far away.”

“Right?” Louis accepts Zayn’s comment as truth even though he can clearly hear the sarcasm in every word. Zayn smacks him upside the head. “What was tha-“

Louis cuts himself off as his phone chirps again.

_This is Harry from the bookshop, by the way. Sorry, forgot to mention._

“What an evil mastermind,” Zayn deadpans.

“He may appear to be an adorable fluffy bunny, Zayn, but this cute little fucker is going to be the death of me, I’m telling you. Does that not bother you in the slightest?”

“Eh,” Zayn shrugs, smirking as he sits back and turns to watch the television, leaving Louis to figure out how to reply on his own.

**Hi, Harry. What are you up to?**

 

*

 

Falling into a friendship with Harry is easier than Louis would have ever expected. He knows it’s not what Harry had wanted -he can still feel the spark of attraction burning in Harry’s eyes when he looks at him sometimes- but Louis had informed him early on that friendship was all he could offer. He’d told him about just getting out of a relationship with Jason and how it had ended. Harry had been horrified on Louis’ behalf, stating that when he was in a relationship he was far too deep into it to even think of anyone else because when Harry loves, he loves completely. His intensity has scared off more than a few of his past lovers. That makes Louis incredibly sad and offended for Harry, whose only crime is feeling too much. It’s been a little over a month since they met and now they’re what Louis would describe as good friends.  Louis is glad that Harry somehow found his way past Louis’ defenses to make it so.

“Get your own!” Louis laughs, pulling his basket of chips closer to himself so he can guard it from Harry’s greedy fingers.

Harry pouts, lower lip jutting out adorably, as he stares down at his own empty basket. “I had my own but I think they gave you more than me.”

“Nonsense. That waitress has been flirting with you so hard, I’ll bet she’d give you a free order if you asked.”

“You think?” Harry asks, delight glistening in his eyes. He won’t ask, he wouldn’t play with someone’s feelings like that, Louis knows that now. But the thought that someone is attracted to him always makes Harry’s smile brighten and, no, Louis is not jealous. Because friends don’t get jealous.

“You should ask her out, if you want,” Louis smiles but he knows it’s not reaching his eyes. “I’ll even get her for you.” He reaches out his hand to wave her over but Harry jumps up from the other side of the booth to stop him, pulling his arms down before she can look in their direction.

“Don’t. Erm, I mean, I’m fairly certain she’d rather not be hit on by her patrons,” Harry says, trapping Louis’ hand against the table. He’s still smiling but it looks tight, nervous, and it falls off his face entirely when he sees the sleeve of his henley has ridden up. He lets go of Louis’ hand and tugs his sleeve down hurriedly before shoving his hand under the table. “So, should we get desert or will that make us late to the movie?”

Louis stares for a second wondering what the hell just happened before shaking it off and slapping the hand that Harry’s trying to sneak back into his basket of chips. He ends up sharing the stupid things, because he’s not as hungry as he’d thought. It’s not because he’s weak, and it has absolutely nothing to do with Harry’s pink pouty lips.

It doesn’t.

>*<

“I’ll see you later,” Harry says, watching as Louis descends the stairs.

“Okay, bye. I’ll text you!” he calls back, just as he disappears from eyesight.

Harry shuts the door to his flat, letting out a slow breath as he leans his weight against it. He stands there just breathing for a while until the skin of his right forearm feels like it’s burning a hole right through the fabric of his shirt. He holds his arm out and rolls back the sleeve of his henley to reveal the large tattoo that showed up on his skin a couple of weeks ago.

It’s a compass, an exact replica of the smaller one usually visible on Louis’ ankle. He runs his thumb over it. It doesn’t hurt. It’s not actually burning, but Harry feels like it is whenever he has to hide it. Times like today when the two of them spend hours together as just friends and Harry has to lie to himself and to Louis by covering up his arms. Louis has made it very clear that he doesn’t want to be in a relationship. He says it’s too soon for him, and he doesn’t want to fall in love again, but Harry can’t help that he already has.

He shuts his eyes and lets his head fall back against the door with a soft thud. He’s never been this person before. The type that keeps his feelings all bottled up. Harry loves fiercely and he puts everything he has into it. He loves Louis. He knew he was going to the moment he saw him, just like he knows it’s going to hurt when Louis realizes what’s going on and inevitably walks away like so many others have before him. Louis, with all of his warmth and beauty and now Harry’s heart, although he has no clue that he has stolen it.

Harry tries to distract himself for the rest of the day, but he doesn’t do a very good job of it because everything he does reminds him of Louis, which isn’t necessarily a _bad_ thing, but it’s not exactly helpful either.

Harry enjoys being in love, how the emotion washes over him and fills every piece of his heart. Falling for someone feels amazing. Harry can’t understand why Louis doesn’t see it the same way, that is until he remembers how horribly Louis’ ex-boyfriend treated him; How horribly so many of Louis’ exes have treated him. Harry doesn’t understand how people can take something as beautiful as love and twist it until it leaves someone like Louis just as mangled, twisted up, and broken. He wishes Louis would believe him when he says that love doesn’t always have to be like that. So far, he hasn’t.

 

*

 

He invites Liam over later that night, opening the door with a wide smile and shoving a cold beer into his hand as soon as he arrives.

“You’re looking quite chipper tonight,” Liam chuckles as he walks in and wraps an arm around Harry’s neck to hug him.

“I’m in love, what did you expect,” Harry grins.

Liam fondly rolls his eyes when they let go. “How could I forget with you and Niall bringing it up every ten minutes. Come here. Let me see the tattoo again,” Liam says as he takes a seat on the couch.

Harry moves to sit beside him, feeling his heart beating faster from the rush of getting to show it off. He happily presents his arm to Liam for further inspection, delighting in the way that little goose bumps rise up around it.

“It’s beautiful,” Liam smiles.

“So is he,” Harry smiles back at him. God, Louis is the most beautiful person that Harry’s ever seen, inside and out. He’s so honored to have Louis’ mark permanently etched onto his skin.

Liam chuckles as he lets go of Harry’s forearm. He meets his eyes once Harry has finished admiring his own skin.

“About Louis…” he begins quietly, “Has there been any change there? Does he know?”

“No. I haven’t told him yet,” Harry admits, feeling his grin slowly fading from his lips. “I will eventually.” Harry doesn’t know when that’ll be exactly, but he’s glad that Liam doesn’t push him to find out.

“Maybe by the time you’ve worked up the courage to show him, he’ll have an amazing new tattoo to show you as well,” he grins.

That would be amazing, a literal dream come true, but Harry knows it’s a long shot so he doesn’t let himself get his hopes up. “I know that he cares about me, it’s just not in the same way I feel about him. We can be friends for now.”

“But you love him,” Liam points out.

The words bring the smile back to Harry’s face in an instant, causing him to blush like mad. “Yeah, I do.”

Liam stays for about an hour. The two of them half-watching whatever is on tv as they hang out and talk. He’s just about to walk Liam to the door when his phone vibrates in his back pocket. He pulls it out and immediately grins when he sees that it’s Louis.

“Wonder who that could be,” Liam muses aloud to tease him, but Harry doesn’t take the bait. “Alright, I can see I’m no longer needed so I’m just going to see myself out,” Liam jokes. Harry hears him, but he’s having trouble focusing on his friend when Louis is trying to convince him to go out with him and his friend Zayn. “What’s he saying?” Liam asks impatiently, scooting over on the couch to read what Harry’s typing.

“He wants me to go out with him and Zayn.”

“Oh,” Liam says, clearly expecting Louis message to be more than an invite out to the pub. “Well, what do you think? Are you going to go?” Harry gives him a flat look as a response. “Yeah, okay, that was a dumb question. I should’ve known,” Liam says.

Harry hops up once he sends off his confirmation to go out with them. He claps his hands together already mentally picking out what he’s going to wear when he realizes that most of his favorite outfits for going out are short-sleeved with the intention of making his tattoos visible.

Liam notices the way he glances down at his forearm and raises an eyebrow. “What is it?”

“My tattoo. I have to keep it covered. I don’t have anything to wear.”

Liam seems to understand, his eyebrows creasing in the middle. “You have some really nice button-downs that I haven’t seen you wear in a while. It’s a bit warm out tonight, but I think one of those should be fine,” he suggests. Harry nods at his friend, liking that idea since he virtually has no other options.

He’s been covering his arms up around Louis for the past few weeks, surely he can handle it for one night out.

 

>*<

 

Louis has never been very good at being a wing man. He’s doing his level best to talk Zayn up to the bartender, Aaron, while Zayn strikes an alluring pose over by the jukebox as he contemplates which song to play.  It’s a good thing Zayn is pretty enough to entice all on his own because Louis’ fairly certain he’s doing a horrible job of getting his friend laid.  He thinks Aaron probably stopped listening after serving Louis his second pint because that was around the time Zayn bent over like he was having trouble reading the selections, putting his arse on display. Aaron’s eyes have been glued to him ever since so it’s a bit of a relief when Harry arrives, giving Louis an excuse to turn his attention elsewhere.

 

“Harry!” Louis greets enthusiastically, leaving his pint behind to meet Harry half-way across the pub in a nice, platonic bro-hug.

 

Harry looks confused but accepts the hug easily. “Hey, Lou?” Louis can hear the question in Harry’s tone.

 

“Please don’t make me go back over there, yet,” Louis half-whispers into Harry’s ear.

 

“Why not?” Harry whispers back, amusement clear in the depths of his dimples.

 

“Because I’m a terrible wingman and Zayn’s trying to hook up with the bartender.”

 

“Oh,” Harry replies, raising his gaze to take in the man behind the bar. His eyes go from watching Aaron to inspecting Zayn where he’s still making a fuss over what to play at the jukebox. After assessing the situation, he grins down at Louis. “I’ve got this.”

 

Louis watches Harry stride confidently over to Zayn and whisper a few words to him, then pluck some money from his pocket and select a song on the jukebox. The seductively slow notes of The Arctic Monkeys flow through the speakers as Zayn stalks predatorily over to the bar and leans forward to order a drink. Aaron’s eyes never stray from Zayn as he moves and he instinctively leans into Zayn’s space when he’s bending over the bar.

 

Harry walks back over to Louis as Louis watches the exchange between Aaron and Zayn with disbelieving eyes. “How’d you do that?”

 

Harry shrugs. “You were both overthinking it. Someone who walks with confidence is a turn on for just about everyone,” Harry grins and Louis tries not to think about how Harry walks with confidence. He tries not to think about how that confidence has probably been the catalyst for many of the tattoos on Harry’s skin. “And a good soundtrack never hurts.”

 

“Yeah, good thinking,” Louis replies, too busy thinking about the tattoos on Harry’s arms to really pay much attention to the conversation. He blinks, realizing he’s been staring at Harry’s arms right about the same time he realizes that he can’t actually see Harry’s arms because he’s in long sleeves yet again. “You look hot but you know you’re gonna, like, actually burn up in that, right?”

 

Harry looks down at his button-down shirt and shrugs. “I’m fine.”

 

The thing is, Louis wasn’t lying, Harry looks really good in the navy shirt he’s wearing. Like, _really_ good. Louis could really use that pint he abandoned now.

 

Harry follows as Louis walks back to the bar. Unfortunately, in the wake of Zayn, Aaron seems to have forgotten he has a job to do. Louis sighs heavily and sits on his former stool, pushing away his last pint. He knows better than to drink something he’s taken his eyes off of.

 

Harry waits with him for a minute, nodding his head to the music as they watch the television in the corner that’s playing highlights of the Swansea City versus Man U footie match from earlier in the day, chatting occasionally about a good play or a bad call. When Louis sighs again, Harry places a hand on the small of Louis’ back and excuses himself. Louis tries to tell himself that he can’t still feel the warmth of Harry’s hand even after he walks away. He watches Harry politely break up Zayn and Aaron’s conversation to order and bites back a smile when Harry comes back with a pint in each hand.

 

“Here you go,” he says, sliding one of the drinks over to Louis before taking a sip of his own.

 

“Well, chivalry isn’t dead,” Louis quips, smirking at Harry as he pulls his new drink closer.

 

Harry snorts. “I don’t think I’d call plying someone with alcohol ‘chivalry’, Lou.”

 

“Take your compliments where you can get them, Styles,” Louis sticks his tongue out at him.

 

“Heeeey,” Harry frowns, playfully disgruntled. “I get plenty of compliments.”

 

“Are these from the people you’ve been plying with alcohol?”

 

“No… Well, not all of them.” Harry plays along, mirth dimpling his cheeks.

 

*

 

Louis is having a nice time. His drink is nice. Harry’s laugh is nice. _Harry_ is nice.

 

“You’re so nice, Haz,” he tells him, staring up into the glassy, green eyes staring back at him.

 

“Thank you, Louis. I think you’re nice too.” Harry answers with a dopey grin on his face.

 

It may just be that Louis is really drunk but he thinks their faces may be really close to each other. It’s okay though, he doesn’t mind in the slightest. In fact, he kind of feels compelled to bring them closer.

 

“You know what would be really nice?” Zayn asks, pushing himself between them and throwing an arm around each of their necks to rest on their shoulders. “It would be so fuckin’ nice, if next time, one of you remind me not to agree to be the DD.”

 

“I make no promises,” Louis chuckles because he may be drunk but he’s not lost _all_ of his senses.

 

>*<

 

It’s late by the time the pub is prepping to close. Zayn is happier than he was at the beginning of the night, having been in and out of the bathroom all night long with the bartender during his breaks, and Harry has been having such a good time just being in Louis’ presence that he kind of wishes they didn’t have to leave. He realizes that he’s not alone in wishing the night didn’t have to end hearing Louis whine to his friend about not being ready to go home.

“Are you planning on sleeping here?” Zayn asks with a raise of his eyebrows.

Louis rests his forehead against Harry’s arm and releases a grumpy sigh into his shirt sleeve. “No,” he mutters.

“Then I guess you’re coming with me and Harry then,” Zayn beams victoriously.

Harry grins down at Louis when he lifts his head and sighs once again in defeat. Zayn pats his friend consolingly on the back before heading towards the door and leading the way out.

Harry had been expecting to spend their car ride listening to whatever Zayn chose on the radio or watching the street pass by in a blur outside, but that was before Louis slid into the car behind him to share the back seat. Now, the music, window, and the city zooming by holds no interest for Harry. All of his attention is helplessly aimed at the tipsy boy leaning his head against Zayn’s car door. He’s a bit more intoxicated than Harry’s seen him during the time that they’ve known each other, but that doesn’t make Harry any less endeared. He’s still wonderful, still beautiful, and what’s most important is that he’s still grinning, even as he lifts his head from the door when he feels Harry’s eyes on him.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

Louis narrows his eyes at him, a playful smirk on his lips as he stares Harry down for an answer.

“Am I looking at you in a particular way?” Harry asks. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”

Louis tilts his head to one side as he continues to squint at him, almost like he’s trying to figure something out.

“You look at me like that a lot. I catch you sometimes…” he says, his comment catching the attention of his friend sitting behind the wheel. Zayn peeks back at them in the reflection of the rearview mirror, looking quite interested in their conversation when Louis continues with, “Sometimes, it’s almost as if- It _feels_ almost like...”

Harry’s heart thumps a fast rhythm when Louis’ eyes start to lose some of their mirth, turning more serious as he searches Harry’s face for something. Louis’ index finger begins absentmindedly tracing a path along the tattoos on his left arm as he stares. Harry watches Louis’ finger swirling over the ink on his skin, Harry’s own compass tattoo feeling like it’s on fire beneath his shirt sleeve.

“Sometimes it feels like what, Louis?” Harry pushes him. He has been so careful with making sure that their friendship remains exactly that, but maybe he hasn’t been as good at lying about his feelings as he thought. He couldn’t have been, not with the way Louis’ looking at him like he knows something has changed.

His blue eyes pierce Harry for only a second more before his lips pull up at the corners and he lets his hand fall away from his skin. “It’s nothing, Curly,” he giggles softly, the brightness returning to his gaze. “I’m just drunk. I’m not making any sense,” he says.

Harry lets out a long, quiet breath when Louis begins singing along to the new song playing. He’s relieved to know that Louis is just talking out of his arse because he’s off his face instead of him actually knowing the truth. That feeling of relief is short lived when he feels someone’s gaze still burning into him. His heart sinks along with all the blood in his face when he notices Zayn’s glare reflecting at him from the rearview mirror.

 

*

 

Thankfully, Zayn drops him off first. Harry already has his hand on the door handle before the car even pulls to a stop so that he can escape his knowing glances.

“Bye, Haz. I’ll text you tomorrow,” Louis promises as he pulls Harry into a hug.

Harry squeezes him back, grinning when Louis briefly buries his nose in the crook of his neck. He knows better than to bask in his affection for too long though, still very aware of the suspicious man sitting up front.

“I’ll see you later,” he tells Louis before wishing him a goodnight. He says the same to Zayn as he slides out of the car, already walking towards his building when Zayn’s voice stops him.

“Wait! I’ll walk you,” Zayn says as he puts the car in park. Louis perks up at that, already moving to slide out of the car too, but Zayn asks him to stay there.

“I want to go too,” Louis frowns.

Zayn smiles at him good-naturedly. “Yeah, I know, babe, but I need you to watch the car. I’ll only be a minute. I just want to make sure Harry gets inside his flat alright.”

“Fine.” Louis rolls his eyes, but slides back against his seat like his friend asked. “You’re so bossy when you’re sober,” he grumbles. Zayn doesn’t deny his claim. He just smiles at his friend and tells him to watch the car again before following along behind Harry.

They just stand there at the door of his flat staring at each other with Harry not daring to speak a word. Zayn watches him quietly, calculatingly as he pulls out a cigarette and lights it. He deposits his lighter into his back pocket and leans his weight against the threshold.

“What’s going on?” he asks, his dark eyes never leaving Harry’s.

Harry’s first instinct is to lie.

“Nothing. What do you mean?”

Zayn chuckles humorlessly to himself, watching Harry squirm under his gaze. “What do I mean? I mean that I watched men and women gawk at you and offer to buy you drinks all night long, but you didn’t accept a single one.”

“I liked the drinks I already had,” Harry explains.

“You _do_ watch Louis a lot. It’s just like he said. I’ve seen it. Your eyes never leave him,” he breathes out along with a huff of smoke. His eyes fall on Harry’s outfit next and it makes him feel self-conscious. “That’s a nice shirt. It’s a bit warm for it though, isn’t it? It’s a pretty strange choice for a night out,” Zayn comments in a tone that says he doesn’t really need Harry to confirm.

Harry closes his eyes and lets out a defeated sigh as Zayn stubs out what remains of his cigarette.

“Can I see your arms?” 

There’s no use hiding it or making up excuses at this point, so Harry complies and rolls back his sleeve. There are various tattoos dotted all along his arm, but the only one of any importance at the moment is the bold compass, so large and prominent on Harry’s pale skin that it spans the width of his forearm.

He holds his breath as Zayn inspects it, grinning when Zayn says the same thing that everyone else has upon seeing it.

“It’s beautiful,” he tells him. Harry stares at this compass every day in awe of Louis’ mark permanently branded on his body. At times he’s left just as breathless as the morning when he woke up, felt his arm tingling, and just knew that it was there without even looking down.

“Harry, why haven’t you told him? Why have you been hiding it?” Zayn’s tone is accusing, like Harry is doing it to be cold or malicious, but that’s not the case at all. Truly, he’s just scared.

“He doesn’t want a relationship right now, Zayn. I don’t want to scare him off before we’ve even had a chance.”

“And what if he doesn’t want a relationship for a while or _ever_? What then?”

Harry has already thought about that and the possibility of it feels like a blade to the chest, but the thought of Louis eventually falling in love with him or even just giving them a chance would be everything Harry’s ever hoped for. He can wait if he has to. He can be patient.

“I’ll wait as long as he needs me to. I love him,” Harry shrugs, meaning every word.

Zayn nods, his brown eyes lighting up when he meets Harry’s gaze. “Yeah, I know you do.”

Zayn returns to his car once he’s promised to slaughter Harry should he ever hurt his friend. Harry could never do that and he swore to Zayn that he never would, earning Harry his first ever hug from the man.

Harry smiles where he’s now lying in bed admiring his own arm in the sliver of moonlight peeking in through the window. Louis still doesn’t know that Harry bears his mark. He has no idea that he’s in love with him, but the fact that he’s in the dark about it no longer frightens Harry like it used to. Louis cares for him. It isn’t love yet, but one day it could be. Harry feels the great possibility of it whenever Louis smiles at him and in the way his cheeks flush ever so slightly when he catches Harry stealing glances at him from across the room. They have become such great friends that even Zayn approves and has given his blessing for whenever the time comes. Harry just hopes that it happens soon.

 

>*<

 

‘ _Forgot my lunch today and I have no money until I get paid tomorrow. :(‘_

_‘I’ll have to survive on what’s in the employee fridge for the day. I’m scared.’_

Louis grins when he wakes up to Harry’s texts on a rainy Thursday.

‘ **Poor baby.’**

_“Your concern is touching. :p’_

He checks the time on his phone and sees that it’s 11:17am. He’s got a good hour and a half before Harry takes his lunch and another two before he has to be at work himself. He showers and dresses quickly before making his way to Delilah’s Delights, one of Harry’s favorite restaurants. He makes sure to order a large portion of chips for Harry when he gets their food so he won’t be subjected to Harry’s thievery like he usually is, and makes his way to the bookshop.

Harry sees him through the window as Louis stops at the door to put out his cigarette. He waves with a big grin on his face and Louis’ stomach churns a bit at the sight of Harry’s tattoos. It’s been a while since he’s seen them and he realizes quite suddenly that he likes it better when he can’t. The thought seems harsh but it’s really not meant to be. Louis just really likes spending time with Harry, he’s becoming one of Louis’ best friends, and Louis hates the thought that he could lose him at the drop of a hat should someone new catch Harry’s fancy. That’s what he tells himself.

Harry freezes as Louis opens the door and by the time Louis has reached the front counter, he’s ducked into the back room.

“Harry?” Louis calls out, drawing the attention of Harry’s coworker, Janice. He nods at her before turning his attention back to the door Harry’s disappeared into.

“Hey, Lou,” Harry answers, walking back out a little breathless and wearing a jean jacket that’s tinted a light pink and a shade too short on his arms.

“Cold?” Louis asks, raising a brow at the sight before him.

“Yeah, a bit,” Harry nods a little too enthusiastically.

“Alriiight,” Louis accepts dubiously.

“Are you wearing my jacket, Styles?” Janice asks, walking over to join them.

“Yeah, do you mind? It’s a bit chilly in here,” Harry responds running his hands over his own arms like he’s trying to warm up.

“If you say so,” Janice consents sarcastically before moving back to continue stocking shelves.

“Thanks, Jan!”

“Don’t call me Jan,” is the only response that comes.

“She seems like fun,” Louis observes, putting his bag down on the counter and pushing it towards Harry. “Thought I’d save you from facing the horrors of the employee fridge.”

A smile dimples Harry’s cheeks as he looks at Louis like he’s the greatest thing that ever existed. “You brought me lunch?”

“Couldn’t have you dying on me if you stumbled upon something poisoned,” Louis shrugs, reaching up to open the bag.

“My hero!” Harry exclaims, grabbing Louis’ face with both hands and bending over the counter to give him an enthusiastic kiss on the cheek.

“Stop!” Louis squeals, laughing as he escapes Harry’s hands, stepping back from the counter which only has Harry deftly jumping over it and pursuing him.

“But you saved me,” he argues, chasing Louis around one of the shelves. Louis ducks behind the sci-fi/fantasy section but instead of follow Harry backtracks, going round the other way to catch Louis before he can run off again.

Louis jerks out of Harry’s hold and backs away until he’s pressed against the wall, historical fiction on his left, Christian romance on his right.

“Don’t be a twat, Harry,” Louis protests through his chuckles because Harry has him cornered. “They scare me.”

Harry laughs, taking a slow, menacing step forward.

“We have a customer, you may want to get back to the counter,” Janice’s voice interrupts their fun, her tone implying that she really doesn’t care what they do.

“Yeah, Harold,” Louis scolds, “Get back to work.” It’s probably not as effective due to the giant smile on his face.

Harry sighs with exaggerated displeasure. “Fine. If I must.”

“You must.”

Once the customer is gone, Harry takes his lunch. He gasps happily when he sees what Louis ordered him but still tries to pilfer some of Louis’ chips once his own are gone. Louis slaps his hand away as usual, but he also pretends he doesn’t see Harry reaching once or twice and lets him take a few enjoying Harry’s smug grin when he thinks he’s gotten away with something. It’s freaking adorable.

Louis should know he’s in trouble as soon as that thought crosses his mind.

It’s not until later that night, after his shift waiting tables at Giovanni’s when he’s lying in bed texting Harry that he notices his right arm tingling. He looks over between messages and his heart lurches in his chest because there’s a giant fucking ship tattooed on his bicep.

Oh God. He loves Harry.

He rushes to the bathroom, completely forgetting about his text conversation to get a better look at it in the mirror. Fuck, it’s huge. And Louis is so not ready for this. He’s not ready to be in love again and he’s really not ready for the day he knows everything is going to go to shit.  He and Harry have an amazing thing going as just friends. Why did Louis have to go and fuck everything up by falling for the other boy?

He goes through his entire closet in the course of the next half hour figuring out what he can wear and what he can’t now that he’s got Harry branded into his flesh. Because as much as he may reluctantly feel for the other boy, Louis has to do everything in his power to hide it. Maybe even from Zayn.

He’s just not ready.

>*<

 

“But, they’re not like, obnoxious about it though, are they?” Louis whines at the plate of cookies he’s holding. Harry grins at him after he knocks on Liam’s front door again, finding the pout on Louis’ lips to be one of the cutest that Harry’s ever seen.

“Oh, they are,” Harry assures him with a grin. “Ridiculously so.”

“Oh, well this ought to be fun,” Louis mutters just as the door swings open before them.

“You’re here!” Liam beams with Niall smiling right by his side to welcome them in. Harry hugs them both on his way through the door.

“Ooh! And you brought dessert!” Niall says, taking the plate of cookies and sitting them on the entryway table.

“And I brought Louis! Just as requested,” Harry smiles with a hand resting at Louis’ lower back. “Guys, this is Louis. And Louis, these lovely people are Liam and Niall. They’ve been dying for me to bring you over for weeks.”

Louis sticks his arm out towards them in effort to shake their hands. He gasps when Liam merely glances at his hand before wrapping him in a crushing hug. Niall grabs him the second Liam lets him go and pulls him into a tight embrace as well. “It’s so nice to finally meet you!” Niall tells him. Louis giggles when he finally lets him go, his cheeks pink from such a warm welcome from complete strangers.

“It’s nice to meet you too,” Louis replies, looking only slightly overwhelmed by their excitement.

“We’ve heard so much about you! Here, let me take your jacket,” Liam says, already moving to help Louis out of it.

Louis looks hesitant for a moment before politely declining with a smile. “Um, I’m actually a bit chilly,” he says, pulling his jean jacket tight around his shoulders. “Do you mind if I keep it on for now?”

“Sure, Louis. Whatever you need to feel at home,” Liam smiles back at him.

Harry had almost worn a jacket tonight too, but his would have been for covering up his tattoo rather than actual functionality like Louis’. Harry choose another button down instead. He has been wearing them lately because he’s hiding something, but Louis has always loved his jean jacket. He was wearing it the night that they met, so he knows that he probably is a bit cold despite the temperature.

“Something smells really good. What are we having?” Louis asks all of a sudden. If Harry didn’t know any better he’d say that was ploy for a subject change, but he can’t be sure.

“That is Niall’s signature risotto simmering away,” Liam says with a proud look at his boyfriend.

“No, no, no, Louis. I think what you’re smelling is Liam’s famous braised chicken in the oven,” Niall says, paying no attention to either Louis or Harry as he plants a soft kiss against Liam’s cheek. Liam’s face lights up under Niall’s attention. He cups Niall’s cheek with his hand before leaning in to connect their lips. Louis raises an eyebrow at them, smirking when he meets Harry’s eyes.

“Ridiculously so is right,” he mumbles under his breath.

Harry just shrugs. Any time that he’s not with Louis is spent here with Liam and Niall, so he’s used to it. He did warn Louis earlier that this was going to happen.

The two of them finally break apart, but they’re so wrapped up in each other afterwards that Harry has to clear his throat to get their attention.

“So! Are we going to actually get to _eat_ any of the spectacular food that you’ve prepared for us?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah, of course. We’re sorry,” Liam apologizes, looking only mildly embarrassed for completely zoning out.

He and Niall lead the way to the dining table, their fingers laced where they’re holding hands, their tattoos almost perfectly aligned.

Harry subconsciously places his hand over Louis’ compass. He wants what his friends have so badly. He peeks over at Louis who doesn’t look at all annoyed by his friends. He’s actually grinning instead, his eyes trained on their linked hands with as much admiration as Harry.

Maybe having a love like theirs isn’t as distant of a dream as he thinks.

 

*

 

They leave a couple of hours later. Liam made Louis swear to come back again to hang out. Niall liked him so much that he told Louis he is welcome to hang out with them any time even without Harry there. Harry had only been slightly miffed by that. He was just happy that Louis was such a big hit. He is in love with the man after all, so his friends’ opinions are important to him.

“So. Your friends are pretty much the most adorable couple ever,” Louis says conversationally as he steals Harry’s cigarette and takes a long drag off of it. He gives it right back though, his eyes absolutely radiant in the glow from the street lamps.

“Yeah. Sorry about them and the PDA,” Harry offers, but Louis shakes his head.

“No, don’t apologize. I think it’s sweet. It’s good to see love working out the way it’s supposed to for a change. I’m happy for them.”

Harry feels a crease forming between his eyebrows. Louis says things like that about love quite often. Harry really wishes Louis could have had better experiences with it himself. “Louis, you really hate your tattoos that much? You regret them _all_?”

Louis’ expression changes into something that Harry can’t really decipher as he subconsciously reaches around to grip his arm.

“No. I don’t regret all of them…” he says quietly. He doesn’t elaborate, but the way he’s squeezing his bicep let’s Harry know that he wants to. Harry finishes his cigarette and drops the butt into the bin they pass as they continue down the street.

“Well, which ones were good experiences?” Harry asks. “I know I have some past relationships that ended horribly too, but some of them were actually really nice and-”

“Haz,” he interrupts. “Can we just drop it? Please?” Louis asks, no longer walking or meeting Harry’s eyes.

He doesn’t look upset with Harry for bringing up his past. He looks sad more than anything, and yet he’s still clinging onto the sleeve of his jacket as if it offers him comfort somehow. Harry drops the topic immediately, hating that he’s caused Louis any amount of pain or discomfort.

“So, the cookies tonight were delicious. Wherever did you find such a recipe?” Harry says once they’ve started walking again.

Harry smiles when Louis blushes and playfully kicks at his ankle. “You should know. You helped me bake them,” he says through a stubborn grin.

It’s hours later after he’s walked Louis home and he’s drifting off in bed that he remembers his and Louis’ earlier conversation and the way that Louis had been holding his bicep. The memory only strikes Harry as odd because he was pretty sure he had all of Louis’ tattoos memorized by now. He didn’t realize that there were any even remotely close to that area, but Harry shrugs it off, convinced that Louis must have been clinging to his arm for some other reason, because surely Harry hasn’t overlooked a tattoo somewhere so obvious on Louis’ body. Not when he knows every part of him like the back of his hand.

 

>*<

 

“Would you stop fidgeting?” Zayn teases Louis with a smirk. “You’d think you were taking me to meet your boyfriend, you’re so jumpy.”

“Fuck off,” Louis comments, looking away from his best mate so he won’t see just how close to the truth the statement is, but there’s not enough bite in it to pull off nonchalance.

Zayn’s eyes zero in on him immediately. “Hold up,” he says, grasping Louis’ wrist and halting their walk to the bookshop. “Did you finally get your head out of your arse long enough to give Harry a chance?”

“What? No,” Louis squints at Zayn, confusion in his features. “Wait. You think I should date Harry? Since when?”

 

Zayn rolls his eyes. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe that time we went to the pub and every time Harry turned down a drink from someone else, you got this smug grin on your face. Or when we had that conversation where you brought Harry up every thirty seconds. Maybe it was then.”

 

“What!? What conversation are you talking about?” Louis cries, indignant. He’s not some love struck teenager. He doesn’t constantly have to talk about his crush.

 

“That’s literally every conversation,” Zayn informs him.

 

Louis scoffs. “You’re the one who brought him up just now.”

 

Zayn massages his temples like he’s trying to stave off a headache. Louis knows it’s just for show. “Look, I’m not trying to start an argument, but if you aren’t worried about introducing Harry to me as your boyfriend, then why the fuck are you so nervous?”

 

“I-“ Louis can’t even put it into words. It’s not even anything major, really. It’s just, everyone is going to this fundraiser thing the bookshop is putting on. Liam and Niall are going to be there, and Zayn’s going to be there. Of course, Harry will be there because he set the thing up. So, it’s the first time that Louis’ best mate is meeting Harry’s best mates and it’s also the first time that they’re all going to be together when Louis’ got the proof of his love for Harry emblazoned on his flesh. He’s got the tattoo covered, of course, because loving Harry – while it feels incredible and Louis doesn’t regret it in any way, shape, or form – still actually scares the living shit out of him. But what if someone notices something, what if they can _tell_ and it all comes out and… and Louis thinks he may be close to a panic attack. “Fuck – Zayn, I don’t-”

 

“Lou?” Zayn steps closer, reaching out to Louis with worry written in his eyes. “It’s okay,” he says, like he can see the anxiety searing into Louis’ lungs. “You don’t have to tell me. I won’t push anymore, alright?”

 

As nice as that sounds in theory, keeping his secrets to himself for a little while longer makes Louis’ anxiety level nearly double when he actually considers it. He can’t keep this to himself forever. It’ll be better to have someone he can talk to about it, right? But despite his decision to finally tell Zayn, Louis still can’t spit out the words.

 

Louis takes in a deep, heavenly lungful of air and releases it slowly, steeling his resolve before he’s tearing off his jacket and raising the sleeve of his t-shirt.

 

Zayn’s stare goes from being fixed on Louis’ face, filled with concern, to sliding down to the ship on Louis’ arm. His eyes bug out when he sees it, fingers reaching out involuntarily. He restrains himself before his fingers make contact with Louis’ skin, looking up for permission.

 

“Go ahead,” Louis encourages him, with a weary smile.

 

Zayn’s fingers feel cool against his skin as he traces the lines of the tattoo. “It’s incredible,” he says, voice full of wonder. “Why’s it so big?”

 

Louis snorts. “That’s what she said.”

 

Zayn smacks his arm right over the tattoo, “I’m being serious, ya knob. It’s, like, five times the size of any of the others.”

 

“I don’t know,” Louis answers quietly. It’s strange but already he feels a bit less like he’s stuck in the middle of the sea at high tide. “All I know is that it terrifies me.”

 

Zayn’s gaze is a little sad when his eyes meet Louis’ but there’s understanding there, too, as he lets Louis’ sleeve fall back down and helps him into his jacket again. “Just for the record, I don’t think there’s anything to be afraid of this time,” Zayn says, reaching into his pocket to pull out his cigarettes. He smacks the pack once against his palm before pulling one out and lighting it.

 

Louis declines when Zayn tilts the pack his way questioningly, mind too busy whirling with doubts about Zayn’s previous statement to focus on much else as they continue walking to the store. Harry’s absolutely lovely but even if he were to love Louis back, Louis isn’t certain that he believes that love would be forever.  It’s stupid to judge Harry based on the number of tattoos he has, Louis’ realized this by now. He knows that at least half of Harry’s failed relationships aren’t his fault, and that Harry has plenty of marks for love that’s gone unrequited, but he can’t shake the fear of being just another mark on Harry’s skin. Not when he feels _so much_ for the other boy already.

 

“You’re being awfully quiet,” Zayn prompts, watching Louis as they walk.

 

“What if he doesn’t love me back, Zayn? Or worse, what if he does but it doesn’t last? I can’t do that again, Z. Not with Harry.” Louis fusses with the sleeve of his jacket, pulling it down over his wrist like it’s going to fly up at any moment and show the world that he’s in love.

 

“Okay, look,” Zayn stops them again so that he knows he’ll have Louis’ full attention. “I can’t tell you that everything’s going to work out, Lou. And I’m probably the last person to go to for advice about being in love but based on the millions of books and movies out there on the subject, I think I’ve gleaned a pretty good idea of what it’s supposed to be like. And based on my extensive research, by which I mean the crap romantic comedies you’ve made me watch, I’ve come to the conclusion that love, as grand as it’s supposed to be, is also a leap of faith, Lou.”

 

“Zayn,” Louis sighs.

 

“No, listen,” Zayn puts his hands on Louis’ shoulders, careful to keep his cigarette away from Louis’ skin, two seconds from giving him a hard shake so that maybe he’ll actually _hear_ what he’s trying to say. “If you take that leap, Lou, you may end up splattered all over street. It’s possible. But you could also end up in your lover’s arms, because he’s been waiting there to catch you. Now, think about it. _Really_ think, Lou. Would Harry be waiting there for you?”

 

Louis doesn’t want to think about it, but when he does, he can’t imagine Harry not being there to catch him. That doesn’t _mean anything_ though. It’s a fantasy. He’s seeing Harry there because he _wants_ him there. Louis shakes his head. “I just don’t know, Z” he answers hopelessly.

 

Zayn takes a deep drag of his cigarette and starts walking again. “Well, the other side of that is that if you don’t jump, nothing _ever_ happens. You won’t get hurt,” he shrugs, “but you’ll also never know if you could have had everything you ever wanted.”

 

They both go quiet for the rest of their walk to Harry’s work.

 

 *

 

They run into Harry’s friends pretty much as soon as they arrive at the bookshop and, to Louis’ surprise, Zayn gets on with Liam and Niall like a house on fire. It’s weird because Zayn doesn’t really get close to people that easily but Louis isn’t going to question it because if they’re focused on Zayn, Liam and Niall can’t look at him and guess at his feelings for a certain curly-haired philanthropist.

 

Louis spies Harry talking to a group of people a few tables over from where he’s been idly browsing through some books and starts moving in their direction, fingers trailing over the edges of the tables as he finds his way over. He doesn’t interrupt, but smiles when Harry notices him, giving Louis a brilliant smile of his own.

 

That girl, Emilia, is in the group Harry’s talking to and Louis can’t stop his eyes from focusing on her arms. There’s a chill to air but the girl isn’t wearing a jacket or anything, in fact it seems as though she’s purposely showing as much skin as possible.  This close, Louis can actually make out some of the details of the tattoos on her arms. He’s studying them, glancing up occasionally to make sure that he’s not been caught, when he sees it. Harry’s ship is nestled between a skull and a parrot. Louis’ not sure if he wants to laugh at the arrangement or cry as his heart sinks. Of course, she loves Harry. He can’t really blame her for that. The only question is, does Harry love her? He wants to check, comb over every inch of Harry’s skin in search of… Louis doesn’t know. He glances down at Emilia’s ankle and finds her own mark there, a flower.

 

Louis looks back over at Harry. He’s still talking to the others but Louis is more concerned with the jacket covering his arms. He’s burning with this sudden, urgent need to know if Emilia’s flower has a place on Harry’s skin. It was just a few days ago when he remembers being grateful at not having to see Harry’s tattoos, but now he wants nothing more.

 

>*<

 

The group of customers that Harry is currently entertaining dwindles as time passes, leaving only a few people left for him chat to including a couple whom Harry hopes will become regular customers after today, Emilia who hasn’t stopped flirting with him since she arrived, and then of course, there’s Louis. Louis, who looks so good in the black skinny jeans he’s wearing today along with his signature denim jacket. Louis, who locked eyes with him from across the room when he walked in the door and has kept Harry’s heart skipping several beats ever since; the same boy who has been inching closer and closer towards him over the last few minutes, but it’s not like Harry’s complaining.

 

He smiles down at Louis once the couple he was speaking with dismisses themselves to go browse around the shop. Emilia stays, moving her long blonde hair over her shoulder as she suggests for Harry to stock up on some important genres and authors that the shop seems to be lacking. She’s wearing a tank-top today with some of the thinnest straps that Harry’s ever seen, something she enjoys doing whenever she’s in the mood to have her dozens of tattoos on display, or whenever she needs to showcase a new one. Say, for instance, the small ship now permanently imprinted on her arm that wasn’t there a few days ago. Harry noticed it immediately upon her entering the shop, unable to take his eyes off of his own mark, now forever emblazoned on her skin. However, Harry isn’t the only person who has taken notice of her new artwork, because Louis hasn’t stopped stealing glances at it either.

 

“Harry, don’t you think you could maybe get the boss to consider ordering some of my favorites?” she asks with a flutter of her long eyelashes and a bright smile that would be impossible to ignore. Harry politely grins back, but it fades as soon as he notices the miffed expression on Louis’ face as he steps a bit closer to him.

 

“Haz, can I talk to you for a minute?” he asks. Louis glances at Emilia when she makes a small sound of objection and lowers his voice. “Can I talk to you in private? Outside?”

 

“Er- Yeah, Lou. Of course,” Harry nods, feeling like he treading perilous waters. There’s definitely something going on here that Harry can’t figure out as he looks between his two friends. Emilia is annoyed with Louis, jealously clear on her face when she suddenly dismisses herself to go talk to another group of people near the romance section. There’s something up with Louis too, but Harry can’t quite put his finger on it. It feels like a lot more than petty jealousy. Though, whatever it is must be important for him to want to speak to Harry alone.

 

He follows Louis out the back door, catching the attention of most of the people in the shop, including all of their best friends. Liam and Niall zero in on the two of them and exchange worried glances while Zayn notes the quick pace and determination in Louis’ walk and simply gives Harry a big smile and a thumbs up. Whatever the hell that’s supposed to mean.

 

The two of them make it outside with Harry right on Louis’ heels. Louis turns to face him once the door shuts, but it seems that some of his cool confidence has faded when he stares down at his feet without saying anything. Harry waits him out, knowing that if Louis asked him to come here then it was for a good reason, and when he finally meets Harry’s eyes again, they’re just as brilliantly beautiful as ever, even if Harry can’t make out the emotion swirling around in them.

 

“Your mark is on Emilia’s arm,” he finally says.

 

Harry blinks at him in surprise. He didn’t know what exactly to expect, but it wasn’t that.

 

“Yeah,” Harry nods, “it is.”

 

Louis sighs to himself before continuing with, “She’s in love with you.”

 

“Er- Yeah, I guess she is,” Harry says, carefully. “Louis, what is this all about?”

 

Louis’ expression turns stubborn again before he drops Harry’s gaze to stare at the ground.

 

“You love her, don’t you?” he asks quietly.

 

For a long while, the only thing Harry can do is stand there in confused silence. “Louis, no,” he frowns. “I don’t love her. What makes you think that?” 

 

Louis scoffs before looking up at him again. “You must. That’s the only explanation that would make any sense.”

 

“Lou, what explanation? For what?”

 

“For her always being around, for you acting so strange lately, for you always keeping your arms covered even when it’s warm out. You don’t have to deny it, Harry. Everyone knows how much you love being in love. It’s written all over your bloody skin,” he mumbles.

 

Harry is so completely lost. He has no idea how Louis has come to draw these incredibly false conclusions, but every single of them is wrong.

 

“Louis, I’m not in love with Emilia. I swear.”

 

Louis narrows his eyes at Harry like he doesn’t believe a word out of his mouth. “Can you prove it? Can- Can I see your arms, please?” he asks.

 

Harry’s stomach feels leaden as it drops and the compass on his forearm is absolutely blazing from Louis’ request.

 

“Lou,” Harry pleads. “Can you please just take my word for it and know that whatever you think is going on right now, isn’t?” Louis has become one of the most important people in Harry’s life. He loves Louis so much and he just isn’t ready to say goodbye to him yet.

 

“It’s her flower isn’t it?” Louis says when his eyes fall on the covered forearm that Harry is currently clinging to. “I saw it on her ankle a few minutes ago. Like I said Harry, you don’t have to hide it. I know you two have been friends for a long time, so I get it.”

 

Harry doesn’t know what to do. Louis had originally seemed annoyed at the prospect of him and Emilia being in love, but now he just seems sad. His pain is palpable and it makes Harry’ stomach twist because there’s no reason for Louis to feel that way, not when he is so very loved by Harry.

 

A deep breath is the only preparation that Harry gives himself before deciding. “Alright. I’ll show you,” Harry says. Louis looks up from the ground to see Harry already half-shrugging out of his jacket.

 

Harry pulls his left arm out first since there’s nothing different about it, but then he slowly removes the jacket from his right arm, the one that feels ablaze until the air finally hits it, his skin feeling soothed the moment Louis’ eyes fall on the beautiful compass staring back at them.

 

>*<

 

Louis swallows hard. Of all the things he might have expected to see, his own mark wasn’t one of them. Looking back, he doesn’t know why it seemed so preposterous, he knew Harry wanted more than friendship when they first met. And he’s questioned if it was possible that Harry still wanted that on more than one occasion, when he’d let himself think about it.  But just now, he was _positive_ it would be Emilia’s mark Harry uncovered.

Much like Zayn when Louis had showed off his own new tattoo, Louis’ fingers move toward Harry’s skin without his making the conscious decision to have them do so. Only Louis doesn’t stop himself to ask for permission. He probably should but he doesn’t even think about it.  He assumes it’s fine, welcomed even, when he looks up and sees Harry’s eyes close at the first touch of Louis’ fingers tracing over his flesh like Harry’s been yearning for it.

 

“You love me,” Louis whispers, unable to stop his fingers from tracing the compass on Harry’s skin again and again. It’s so big. It was always small on Louis’ ex’s. You could never properly see that the arrow on it doesn’t point north like most compasses but it’s clear on Harry’s arm. Louis’ compass points to ‘Home’ and in this moment Louis can’t help but think it’s rather fitting that his home appears to be with Harry. 

 

“Of course I love you,” Harry answers even though they both know it wasn’t a question, his left hand reaching for Louis while Louis still holds his right arm. “You’re the best person I’ve ever met, Louis. In every way.” His fingers grip the denim of Louis’ jacket like he wants to pull him in. He doesn’t but Louis kind of wishes he would.

 

“I don’t… It’s so much bigger than all the others. Do you know why?” Louis asks instead of saying what he wants to say, that he doesn’t _understand_. Because Louis’ alright, sure. He’s a decent person. He deserves to be loved, he’ll agree to that. But Harry is the absolute _best_ person and he deserves a hell of a lot better than Louis.

 

“I have a theory about that.” Harry pulls his arm back once Louis seems to be done staring at his mark there, takes the time to admire it himself as he speaks. “I think the size of the tattoo has something to do with just how much you love the other person.”

 

“You think so?” Louis can’t help but wonder if Harry is right. Maybe he is. It makes sense because even as much as he’s loved every one of his exes, he’s never felt nearly so much as he feels for Harry.

 

“It’s just a theory,” Harry answers with a shrug, moving to grip Louis’ jacket with his right hand as well, bunching the fabric in both fists. “And a flawed one, at that.”

 

“Why do you say that?” Louis wonders, green eyes staring into his own with such intensity that Louis’ not certain how much longer he’ll be able to keep his feet planted where they are.

 

“Because, if the size of it really does have anything to do with how much I love you, then your mark shouldn’t be just on my arm. It should cover every inch of me. It should stretch out across the universe, Louis, because there’s no end to it,” Harry tells him, eyes never leaving Louis’.

 

“God, Harry.” Louis’ finding it a little difficult to breathe suddenly. “You can’t- you can’t just _say_ things like that.”

 

“Why not, if it’s true?” He asks but at the same time he drops his hands from Louis’ jacket, taking a step back. He seemed so confident a mere moment ago but now Louis’ opened his big mouth and made him uncertain of where they stand. Louis hates himself a little for that, for letting his fear overpower his senses.

 

“Harry, I- I wouldn’t dismiss your theory so quickly if I were you,” He informs the other boy, giving him a nervous smile before barreling on as he toys with one of the sleeves of his jacket. “Though, if it _is_ true, then I think it’s safe to say that I’m in serious trouble.”

 

“What?” Harry questions, confusion flaring in his eyes and Louis knows he’s taken his statement the wrong way. “Why?”

 

Louis closes his eyes, inhales deeply, and takes a leap of faith, pulling his jacket off slowly and exposing his newly tattooed bicep to Harry. “Because I doubt I’ll ever love someone this much again,” he says as he opens his eyes to see Harry staring, open-mouthed at his own mark standing massive and proud on Louis’ arm. “And I’m not the greatest at holding on to the people I love.”

 

“Louis, you- you love me, too,” Harry murmurs, voice awe-filled, eyes watery as he takes back the space he’d vacated, crowding in close to see his ship, fully detailed, in all its glory.

 

“I do,” Louis confirms, his grin more confident now that his secret’s out. “Very much, in fact. Dunno how that happened.”

 

He’s still petrified about what this means for them, where the future might lead, but it’s dimmed to a controllable tremor with the way Harry’s practically worshipping his arm with the tips of his fingers.

 

“I think this is the happiest moment of my life,” Harry says quietly, instead of teasing back. Louis didn’t really expect him to. He learned a while ago that Harry always seems to be endearingly earnest when in emotional situations. Besides, he quite likes Harry’s reaction, if he’s honest.

 

“It’s not the worst thing that’s ever happened to me,” Louis remarks, reaching out to pull Harry into an embrace so that he knows that Louis doesn’t meant it, that this is actually quite possibly the _best_ thing that’s ever happened to him.

 

He doesn’t mean for it to be anything more than a hug, and for a moment, that’s all it is. But then Harry’s pulling back to look at him, eyes so full of love and Louis can’t help the way he surges forward, connecting their lips in a slow, penetrating kiss that says everything they’ve both been holding back all this time. Harry melts into it, tongue delving into Louis’ mouth to write out promises that Louis knows he’ll try to spend the rest of his life keeping and Louis returns the favor, melding himself against Harry’s body, languid and comfortable and finally, impossibly, completely _at home_.

 

 

**One Year Later**

 

“I think those should’ve been flipped about five minutes ago, mate,” Zayn notes, looking over his friend’s shoulder at the burgers sizzling on the grill that are starting to look a few shades darker than they’re supposed to on the bottom. Niall faces him and narrows his eyes.

 

“Excuse me, but who’s wearing the apron in this situation?”

 

Zayn looks down at his shirt and jeans before raising an eyebrow at the similar outfit Niall is wearing. “Um. No one?” he answers, earning himself a soft shove when Niall fights the urge to laugh with him.

 

“Babe! Zayn’s bothering me again,” he calls over his shoulder with a smug grin as he uses the grilling tongs to flip the food like Zayn suggested.

 

Liam looks up as soon as he hears his boyfriend’s voice, leaving his spot beside the rest of their guests. Zayn rolls his eyes when Liam gets up to come to Niall’s rescue.

 

“What’s going on with the two of you this time?” he asks looking amused more than anything when Niall leans back against him and rests his head on Liam’s chest.

 

“Zayn’s trying to usurp my grilling rights.”

 

“No. Niall’s trying to have us eating ashes for dinner,” Zayn mutters into his beer bottle before taking a long sip.

 

“See!” Niall complains as he turns to face his boyfriend. “He says I’m burning the food and I’m not.”

 

Liam chuckles and presses a kiss to Niall’s temple to pacify him. He sets his beer down to wrap his arms around Niall’s waist. “You are a fantastic griller,” Liam says. “You and I now have this house with this beautiful garden to grill in whenever we want,” Liam smiles, glancing around at the new home they’re all here to celebrate them moving into. “Don’t you think for tonight’s sake that you and Zayn can work together to make us dinner, just this once?” he asks in that gentle voice that he only uses with Niall. Zayn resists the urge to gag when Niall nods and kisses his boyfriend for so long that the burgers start to sizzle angrily from lack of attention.

 

Zayn fondly rolls his eyes at the pair of them before accepting defeat and the fact that the charcoal will probably be more edible tonight than the actual burgers. Whatever.

 

He makes his way back to his seat, grinning when his own boyfriend smiles up at him in greeting. “How’d it go?” James asks.

 

“Lovely. We’re all doomed,” Zayn tells him, noting the way James’ eyes crinkle up when he laughs at his joke. He takes a couple of swallows of his beer and Zayn takes a moment to admire the way the tattoos on his arm look so nice in the sun. James only has six including his own, and as of a couple of months ago, Zayn’s bird.

 

Zayn looks down at his own skin, still bare and blank as ever. He used to feel guilty about his lack of tattoos until he and Louis figured out why he doesn’t have any and why he never will. He explained that to James when they first met; how he’ll never bare anyone else’s mark. He had expected James to bolt just like everyone else when they hear that, but he didn’t. He told Zayn that he understood and wouldn’t ask anymore of him than he was capable of, and so far, he’s kept his word. James loves him. That much is obvious, and Zayn cares about him more than he’s ever cared for anyone in that way; his skin just won’t show it.

 

“What?” James grins when he catches the way Zayn is watching him.

 

“Nothing,” he answers. He leans over the arm of his chair to capture James’ lips with his own. Zayn feels him grinning against him just before they separate.

 

“What was that for?” he asks with a smirk that says he didn’t mind it one bit.

 

“I just wanted to kiss you,” Zayn explains, causing his boyfriend to gain the slightest bit of color to his cheeks.

 

It’s moments like this that let Zayn know that they’re okay. That he and James can have a relationship that’s just as tender and passionate as everyone else’s. Well, maybe not as passionate as some, Zayn muses, peeking over at his best friend who is currently tongue deep where he’s straddled across Harry’s lap. They’ve been handsy with one another all afternoon and the alcohol obviously hasn’t helped matters based on the way Harry’s hands are gripped around Louis’ hips.

 

They’re ridiculous. They have been pretty much since they both got their heads out their arses and realized they were in love with each other. Louis had been so hurt when they met, and then Harry came into his life, bringing love, sunshine, and everything that’s bright and good with him. One of them moans aloud, completely oblivious to the fact that they are not alone. Zayn would gag if they weren’t so cute.

 

“Oi! Get a fucking room,” Zayn tells them, watching as his two friends break apart at the sound of his voice.

 

“How long until dinner’s ready?” Louis asks.

 

Zayn glances over to where Liam and Niall have stopped kissing long enough to tend to their food and put the chicken on. “I don’t know…twenty minutes?” he shrugs.

 

The look of mischief in Louis’ eyes when he grins down at Harry doesn’t go unnoticed as they have some sort of wordless conversation. Whatever they’re discussing must end in a mutual agreement of some kind because they both hop up a few seconds later.

 

“Going somewhere?” Zayn asks as they try to slink away unnoticed.

 

“Er- we’re just going inside for a moment. I forgot my phone,” Harry says.

 

Zayn raises an eyebrow at Louis, waiting for his bullshit excuse.

 

“…I have to go to the bathroom,” Louis says, pointing at the half-empty bottle of beer he left sitting in the grass.

 

“Right,” Zayn says, shaking his head as the two of them disappear inside the house together.

 

“Harry’s phone is bedside his chair,” James smirks once they’re gone.

 

“And Louis went inside to piss half an hour ago,” Zayn points out, laughing because Louis and Harry are so gone for each other that they can’t even keep their shit together during a barbecue.

 

*

 

Liam notices Harry and Louis walking into the house, hands held, giggling like schoolgirls. And almost exactly twenty minutes later, he notices them slipping out again, hands still clasped, looking well fucked and wearing smug grins of satisfaction.

 

“Geeze, what do you reckon they got up to?” Niall asks, nudging Liam in the shoulder.

 

Liam grins at his boyfriend. “Nothing we didn’t get up to first,” he says with a wink.

 

Niall laughs, thoroughly entertained in the knowledge that no matter what Harry and Louis did, and no matter which surface they chose to do it on, he and Liam did it there first. What? It’s their first house together, they had to christen it, didn’t they?

 

A few minutes later, Liam announces to the others that the food is ready. And no, Niall didn’t burn it. _Good burgers are supposed to be a little crispy, Zayn._

 

They all sit down to a nice meal, chatting amicably over each other about everything. Niall and Liam sit next to each other, probably closer than strictly necessary.

 

Zayn and James sit across from them, a normal distance apart but it’s clear there’s something special going on between them when they smile at each other.  Liam and Niall haven’t known Zayn that long, only about a year now, but they’d been worried about him. When he’d explained why his arms were bare, they’d both felt sad at the knowledge that he’d never have what they have, but seeing him with James, Liam doesn’t think they have to worry anymore. Zayn may not be able to love James the way that he and Niall love each other, but James doesn’t seem to mind and Liam’s never seen Zayn look so comfortable in his own skin. Even if it is still blank.

 

And then there’s Harry and Louis. The only seats left at the table when they’d sat down were the ones on either end, and they’d made a plan to leave those seats for Harry and Louis. To be honest, Liam had known that wouldn’t break up the couple. Louis sits on Harry’s lap, plate in hand, while Harry’s sits on the table. They’re inseparable. Niall never should have expected anything else. He and Liam were like that when they got together. Too in love to want to spend even a moment apart. Of course, that phase hadn’t lasted an _entire year_ when it was the two of them.

 

“A toast!” Niall calls, drawing Liam’s attention from his thoughts as he looks over at his lover, standing next to him with his glass in the air.

 

Everyone raises their glasses automatically, waiting to see what Niall has to say.

 

“I know me and Liam are the old married couple of the group-“

 

He’s cut off as Zayn, Louis, and Harry all start yelling calling them ‘mom and dad’ and yelling about what an adorable old couple they make.

 

“Shut up, ya cunts, I’m talking here!”  Niall cuts them off in return, causing Harry to giggle into Louis’ arm. “As I was saying, I’m glad we all made it here. We found each other, all of us, and I’m happy to call you lot my best friends. Even if ya are horny little fuckers who have sex in my new house,” he raises his glass further as he points it toward Harry and Louis.

 

Harry’s face goes red before he hides it in Louis’ side. At least _he_ has the decency to look ashamed. Louis just laughs, stroking Harry’s hair fondly.

 

“Even if you’re an insolent son of a bitch that questions my cooking,” He points at Zayn who only raises his glass further and grins in return. “And his boyfriend who is obviously too good for him.”

 

James smiles but shakes his head like he doesn’t agree with that statement.

 

Niall turns to Liam next. “And especially if you’re the sorry sucker who’s willing to be stuck with me for the next fifty years or so.”

 

“Forever,” Liam corrects, taking Niall’s free hand in his.

“So, here’s to being in the right place at the right time, with the right person by our side.”

 

Everyone agrees loudly, taking a sip of their drink.

 

“Perfect,” Liam hears Louis say.

 

“What?” Harry asks, turning to at him.

 

“You’re not just the right person,” Louis answers him, hands cradling his face. “You’re the perfect person. The _only_ person.”

 

Harry smiles, brilliant and so, so in love. 

 

It seems true for all of them, Liam thinks, that they all found who they were supposed to. It seems especially true for Harry though, the boy who’s always been in love with love. He doesn’t have to search for it anymore. It’s right in front of him now, sitting in his lap, staring him in the face, kissing his waiting mouth.

 

Liam looks away, not wanting to intrude even though they’re having this moment right out in the open.

 

But who can blame them, really?

 

They’re in love. A forever kind of love.

 

And that’s a beautiful thing.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked it!!


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